Months passed in a slow, dragging haze. Seasons changed, the sun rose and fell, and Naruto remained at the bottom of the class. No matter how hard tried, no matter how much he studied, Mizuki always found a way to sabotage him. His test scores were altered, his assignments were marked unfairly, and when he got something right, Mizuki simply moved the goalposts. It became routine. Expected. Naruto stopped reacting after a while. Stopped fighting it. He had learned something important—humans were strange creatures, and the ones in power could bend the rules however they wanted.
But that was fine. The Academy didn't define him. He had other ways to grow.
He still went to the Forest of Death, slipping past the guards, vanishing into the wilderness like a shadow. Out there, he could breathe. He could run and jump and hunt and play, letting his body move in ways it wasn't supposed to. He trained his abilities in secret, pushing them further, testing their limits. He learned how to track, how to climb, how to move faster than human eyes could follow. He learned how to listen—not just with his ears, but with every part of himself, the way prey listened for predators, the way wolves listened to the wind.
Another year passed.
They were all eight years old now.
One day, Naruto sat on the street, idly petting a stray cat. The cat purred against his hand, warm and soft, rubbing its face into his palm. Naruto liked cats. They reminded him of something distant, something he couldn't quite name—memories of being small and quick, of chasing things through the dark, of curling up in high places where no one could reach.
Then, a shadow. Footsteps. Someone stood in front of him.
Naruto looked up. "Weasel."
Itachi smiled, the way he always did. A quiet smile, careful and measured. "It's Itachi, Naruto-kun."
Naruto tilted his head. "Itachi."
Itachi crouched slightly, watching the cat in Naruto's hands. "I see you've found another kitten."
Naruto continued petting the cat. He didn't say anything.
"You know, Naruto, Sasuke often talks about you," Itachi said after a moment. "He says you're a good student, but the Academy teachers sabotage you."
Naruto didn't answer immediately. His fingers ran through the cat's fur, feeling the warmth beneath his palm. "I manage."
Itachi studied him. His dark eyes were calm, unreadable. "You see, Naruto-kun. I'm going on a long mission. Can you promise me something?"
Naruto glanced up. "Why?"
Itachi didn't answer right away. "It will be a long time before I return. And it's because I know you are a good person."
Naruto thought about that for a moment. A good person. He wasn't sure what that meant. He had killed a man once. But animals killed all the time, and they weren't evil.
Still, he nodded. "Ok."
"Be a good friend to Sasuke," Itachi said softly. "And… be there for him."
Naruto thought about Sasuke. Thought about the way he had refused to be friends, but hadn't completely shut the door on it either. Not yet.
"Ok. Dattebane."
Itachi ruffled his hair. Naruto scowled, shaking him off, but Itachi only chuckled. "You should smile more often, Naruto-kun." He stood up. "Now, farewell."
Naruto watched him walk away.
That was the last time he ever saw Weasel.
Because the next day, the air was thick with blood.
The village whispered in hushed, frantic voices. Streets that were normally filled with laughter and chatter were eerily silent. The Uchiha Compound, once a bustling district, was locked down, its gates closed, its pathways stained red.
Itachi Uchiha had slaughtered his own clan.
Killed them all.
His parents. His relatives. His friends.
Everyone, except for one person.
Sasuke.
The lone survivor.
Naruto stood outside the compound, staring at the ANBU stationed at the entrance. He could smell it. Blood. So much of it. It clung to the air, thick and coppery, seeping into the ground, into the walls. He didn't need to see inside to know what it looked like.
Sasuke hadn't come to class that day.
Or the next.
When he finally did, he was different.
He was quiet before, but now he was silent. He didn't talk to anyone, didn't acknowledge anyone. He sat alone. Ate alone. Trained alone. There was something hollow in his eyes, something dark and bottomless, like a wound that couldn't close.
Naruto didn't try to talk to him.
What could he say?
He didn't know what it was like to have a family, but he knew what it was like to be alone.
So he just… stayed nearby. Close enough to be there, but not close enough to intrude.
Weeks passed.
The village moved on, as villages always did.
Sasuke didn't.
One evening, Naruto found him in the training grounds, standing in front of a battered log. His hands were clenched into fists, his body trembling. The sun was setting, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples.
Naruto didn't say anything.
Sasuke punched the log. Again. And again. His knuckles were raw, split open, blood smearing against the wood. His breath came in ragged gasps.
Naruto sat down on a nearby rock, watching.
Sasuke didn't acknowledge him.
For a long time, there was only the sound of fists hitting wood, over and over.
Then, finally, Sasuke stopped. He stood there, panting, shoulders heaving. His hands shook at his sides.
Naruto spoke.
"It wasn't your fault."
Sasuke flinched.
Naruto didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.
Sasuke turned slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Go away."
Naruto didn't move.
Sasuke clenched his fists. "I said, go away."
Naruto tilted his head. "Not yet."
Sasuke stared at him.
Naruto met his gaze, unblinking.
Sasuke exhaled sharply, turning away. He sat down heavily on the ground, arms resting on his knees. His face was shadowed, the last light of the sun slipping behind the trees.
They sat in silence.
Naruto didn't speak again.
But he didn't leave, either.